January 29th,
First hour of the evening.
I find myself sitting amongst the crowd that has gathered to listen to the words of two priestess' of the Light. While the humans may not quite see it, our religions are incredibly close, if not the same. The Light is simply another form of Mother Moon. Perhaps vice versa, in their eyes.
Oddly, there's quite a bit of talk of tradgedy involving explosives and troggs. I should hope something more...cheerful will arise shortly.
...
It appears that I have once again been fated to find myself reminded that the next month is that of the festival of love. No matter where I go, it seems I shan't escape it. Not even in a religious ceremony.
...
I decided that perhaps it was time. Time to stop fearing such a thing as simple as the company of another. As such, I have done many a thing these last hours. I've had a goblin see to my appearance and happened across someone with powerful enough magics to heal my oldest wound.
It's...an adjustment to make. Long has it been since I heard my own voice without the crippling amount of interference. I suppose I will have to find the others another time to show them.
